


A Hundred And Three

by holyhael



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, Fallen Castiel, Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 01:31:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holyhael/pseuds/holyhael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were three things Dean Winchester was absolutely positive of:</p><p>The motel room had one vacancy, one bed.</p><p>Dean wanted Cas. No shit.</p><p>Cas wanted him back. Dean was still sort of shocked about this.</p><p>And, really, when you factor all this together, there was no doubt of what would happen the moment they were finally alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Hundred And Three

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to Hot Blooded by Foreigner on repeat while writing this, so that's where the title comes from.
> 
> An anon on tumblr requested a smutty, plotless destiel fic. This is that.

There were three things Dean Winchester was absolutely positive of -

(No, wait. This story - their story - doesn’t start like a fucking soccer mom’s wet dream. Where’s this going?)

The motel room had one vacancy, one bed.

Dean wanted Cas. No shit.

Cas wanted him back. Dean was still sort of shocked about this.

(There were more variables, such as Sam’s selflessness (and intelligence and self-preservation), the late hour, a foiled poltergeist, but who could focus on that?)

And, really, when you factor all this together, there was no doubt of what would happen the moment they were finally alone.

+

Sam approached them with that heavy sigh of his, although something about the way it was executed, the way his arms lifted and flopped back to his sides, caught Dean’s acute attention.

“There’s only one room,” Sam explained, more to Dean than Cas seeing as the ex-angel was more keen on tinkering with a bowl of pinecones than listening to the Sasquatch. “And it only has one bed.”

“Shit.” Dean pushed his eyeballs into his head until he saw spots. It was about three o’clock in the morning, and they were in the middle of fucking nowhere, as it usually happened. They’d already driven for an hour trying to find this motel. Who knew how far the nearest one with vacancies would be? Dean could probably work out another few hours into his day before he finally succumbed to the sandman’s lure, but he sure didn’t want to. “Rock, paper, scissors?”

They were about to engage in an epic battle of which Sam undoubtably win when Cas piped up. “How is that a conclusive test of who gets the room?”

Oh, shit. Dean’d totally forgotten about Cas’ recent human status. It’s only been a week or two, and Dean was thrown into shock whenever he remembered that Cas was an angel of the Lord no more.

Cas claimed it was one hundred percent his decision, but Dean knew it was his fault almost entirely. Cas might spout off some stuff about how inspiring humanity was to him and how he wished to become a part of it, but Dean saw straight through that pile of lies.

Perhaps they weren’t lies to Cas, but to Dean they were. He knew how Cas looked at him, as if he’d strung up the stars to outline his face, his eyes, even though no star could shine as bright or as blue. Dean wanted it, yes, but he didn’t deserve it.

“It just is, Cas,” Dean explained, looking away from Cas’ adorably befuddled expression. He set his shoulders and readied himself for war against Sam, fist in his palm and concentration focussed.

Dean’s answer didn’t satisfy Cas, but he slumped back anyway and continued to fiddle with the pinecones.

Sam slid his eyes away from Cas. His mouth opened and closed with the twitching ghost of a smile before he spoke. “You know what? Dean, you take the bed.”

“Wha-?” Dean blinked. “You sure?”

“Yeah, you deserve it. You were the one who ganked that poltergeist anyway.”

“It was a group effort.” Although, yeah, he totally iced that bitch. A spark of pride briefly shined his weariness away. “Fine. Just pay for it.”

Sam went back to the tired looking receptionist. Dean didn’t blame her droopy eyes; it wasn’t as if working behind a motel desk was the most invigorating job in the world.

“Hey, good job today,” Dean told Cas, elbowing his arm, feeling a spark of something in his chest. Want, longing. Crushing. Dean had been doomed for a long time.

“Thank you, although it was hardly difficult.”

“Well, it can’t be angelic wars all the time.”

“Thank heaven for that.”

Dean huffed at the irony, a smirk on his lips.

“Uh, guys,” Sam started, turning back around. “There’s a slight… problem with the room. It’s-”

“Listen,” Dean interrupted, staring his brother right in the eyes. “I don’t care if that room is the shittiest dump this side of the Mississippi. As long as it has a bed, it’s taken.”

The receptionist quirked her lips, amused. “That’ll be one forty eight.”

“One forty eight?” Was that the problem? Dean was about to tell Sam not to bother with a ripoff like this, but he was already passing the receptionist a bogus credit card and giving her a smile. “This better be the goddamn Burj Al Arab.”

The receptionist flashed a smirk. “Just the next best thing.” The computer tinged and binged and was soon spitting out a scroll of paper, which Sam looked at briefly and gave to Dean. _HEATHERFIELD HOTEL. HAPPY HOTELLING! Checkout time - 5:30 PM. ENJOY YOUR STAY._ He was also passed a DO NOT DISTURB sign for the doorknob. It was dark purple with cottonfloss pink hearts floating around the letters, which was disturbing enough without the little cupid in the right corner about to shoot some arrows. Cas looked over at the sign with a frown.

“Thanks, sugar.” Dean winked at her as he heaved himself back onto his feet. She only rolled her eyes and made a show of scratching her head with her ringed left hand. Dean wasn’t too perturbed. It wasn’t as if he’d ever go after her now. He stretched his arms out as Cas set down the pinecones. “Come on.” Dean patted Cas’ back. “Let’s get some shut eye.”

“Have a lovely evening, boys,” the girl called after them, falsely sweet.

“You can bet on it,” Dean said.

She only smirked. “Oh, I will.”

They followed Sam back to the room. Door #126 was unassuming enough. Dean didn’t see what made it cost so much. That is, until Sam slid the card through the lock, cracked open the door, and flipped on the lights.

All Dean could see was the colossal bed monopolizing the floorspace.

He couldn’t tell if the room was small or the bed was just a fucking monster. Perhaps both. The sheets were virgin-white and laid out in a careful manner that allowed no wrinkling. There were three pillows, the middle one crested with a rosebud. Two sorry looking towel swans arched their beaks together in the middle of the bed. They swam in a sea of ruby red rose petals.

“The honeymoon suite?” Dean nearly choked.

Cas looked at the room with narrowed eyes. “I’d hardly call this a suite.”

He was right, of course. On what little carpet could be seen, there were several stains on the floor Dean did _not_ want to think about. One of the lights on the wall looked about to blow. There were dark spots in the ceiling corner. What he could see of the bathroom did not look very promising.

For all this sappiness and grunginess, Dean was pretty sure they’d crashed in worse. However, one hundred and fifty dollars was a total ripoff.

“So when you said there was a problem-”

“Yeah.” Sam looked around. “Enjoy it, Dean. This is probably your first and last time sleeping in a honeymoon suite.”

“Who says I’m never getting married?” Dean shouted at Sam’s back as the taller brother made a beeline for the washroom. The Sasquatch had to scoot between the bed and the wall a little awkwardly, his legs getting stuck briefly. Before Dean could add an ‘or have someone special over’, Sam spoke again.

“Face it: if I couldn’t do it, you can’t. We’re not normal people. We don’t get normal things.”

With that, Sam shut the washroom door behind him. The words he said were nothing Dean hadn’t heard or said before, but it still made him frown and think of - in this order - Cas, Lisa, Cassie, and Jo.

Sam was wrong. Dean could have normal people things. Just, you know, in a decidedly not-normal way. He flickered his gaze over to Cas, who was surveying the room and all it’s shitty honeymoon glory. An idea sparked in Dean’s head.

“You know… the bed’s big enough for two,” he said.

Cas nodded. “I noticed.”

Dean opened his mouth to form the words of his proposition when Cas interrupted him. Could Dean not add his thoughts before people interrupted him anymore?

“You and Sam can share the bed,” he said. “I can sleep in the Impala.”

He looked resigned, wistful, plaintive as he stared at the bed and its petalled glory and then at Dean. Dean felt his chest ease, the breath knocked out of him as understanding struck him dumb and stupid: this wasn’t just unrequited crushing. This was… well, definitely requited something.

Feeling bold as his old womanizer instincts kicked in, Dean reached out to Cas to grab the man’s hands. Cas appeared startled, but he let himself be maneuvered in a way that left no question Dean wanted his eyes on him. Those blues were shining like a beacon, mouth opened just enough, shoulders relaxing slightly.

“That’s not what I was going for,” Dean said. “Besides, Sam wouldn’t fit on that bed by himself.” This earned him a small smile from Cas. “Sleep with me.” Plain, blunt, something Cas couldn’t misread.

It felt like nothing short of a miracle that Cas said under no uncertain terms, “I would like that very much.”

The moment the washroom door opened, Dean was dragging Sam by the collar out of the suite and ignoring his confused protests and questions. Dean slammed the door on him and locked the door. Belatedly, as he turned to Cas, he remembered they had a festive DO NOT DISTURB sign to post on the doorknob, but the moment Cas suddenly slid himself between Dean’s lips the thought flew from his mind.

People should have enough common sense not to even knock, anyway.

Cas was like fire and rain all at once. His tongue played games in Dean’s mouth, wound around his teeth and urged each desperate attempt of oxygen down Dean’s throat, into submission, oblivion. Dean persisted in much the same manner to match Cas tick for tack, lick to bite. Oh, lord, the bites. Cas pulled Dean’s lip between his teeth and moaned. His hands ran up through Dean’s short hair. Dean reached for something, anything to hold onto, found Cas’ tie, tugged it, tugged Cas even closer.

There wasn’t much room to maneuver with the bed in the way. The back of Cas’ knees hit the bed, and soon he was falling under Dean’s insistence. Petals bounced, jumped. Cas’s hips snapped upwards to meet Dean’s all too briefly as Dean climbed on top of Cas. Pleasant surprise colored Dean’s kisses until he realized Cas was only hoisting up to throw the godforsaken swans out from under him. Only a flicker of disappointment breathed life in Dean’s groin until Cas turned the tables and flipped Dean onto his back.

Cas towered over him, his arms on either side of Dean’s shoulders like a cage. His lips bared down on Dean like he was waging war, but Dean couldn’t tell if he was winning or losing.

In no time at all, Dean’s dick grew more and more accustomed to Cas’ style of attacking this desire. It like it very much. Dean canted his hips to meet Cas, and he sighed into their kiss at that contact, at feeling Cas just as ready and eager as he was. Dean pushed up even more.

Cas’ coat was the first to go, followed briefly by his suit jacket. Dean was the one to reach to Cas’ throat to remove the tie and throw it away. Then Cas sat back on Dean’s groin to unbutton every button of his dress shirt with agonizing leisure.

“Cas, come on.” Dean was well aware he sounded whiny. However, he felt very justified seeing as Cas was sitting on his cock and he had only undone four buttons.

“I like seeing you like this,” Cas said, his voice a growl. One more button popped out.

“I’m not even naked, dude,” Dean said, although he felt raw nonetheless. Cas had that power to make him feel stripped of everything, even senses.

Another button. There was one more to go, and Cas took special time on it. “It’s doesn’t matter,” Cas said. “I may not be an angel anymore, but I can see your soul. It’s very bright and beautiful, Dean. You have a beautiful soul.”

Dean wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. He closed his eyes. He licked his lips, missing the feeling of Cas’ on him.

“You don’t believe me.”

Cas felt heavier, suddenly. Dean’s eyes snapped open to see the man looking at Dean with that look from what felt like eons ago, when Cas first said what Dean hadn’t been strong enough to say: “You don’t think you deserve to be saved”. Except now Cas was human, and he knew emotion, which made his expression all the more heartbroken.

Dean stroked Cas’ arm. “Make me.”

It was a challenge Cas was more than willing to win.

He threw the shirt off and immediately started stripping Dean of his layers. Dean had no protest.

Then, when they were both shirtless and breathing into each other’s mouth, Dean took the next initiative and unbuckled Cas’ pants and pushed them off as well as his boxers.

Dean’s skin felt electric as Cas stroked his fingers down Dean’s chest, pinched his nipples in a way that had Dean gasping. Cas’ eyes were full of wonder, lustrous blue shining down on Dean. “I built this body from nothing but bones and rot.” There was transparent pride in his voice. Dean was warm.

“Every last freckle.”

Cas’ finger found one such freckle on his ribs and pressed down. “I was very proud when I’d seen I’d done such a good job.”

“You can’t get this face wrong,” Dean grinned.

“You should thank me you’re not horribly disfigured.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.” This time, the words were not sarcastic, not mean. He kissed his gratitude into Cas’ collar, on his shoulder, and it left a bruise. “For everything, Cas. For just being here. For being awesome. For just-”

Dean didn’t know what to say anymore, so he didn’t speak. He busied himself with toeing off his boots and taking his own pants off. He tried to take his sweet time to make Cas suffer as he did, but Dean didn’t have that kind of self control. The jeans hit the wall, followed soon after by his boxers.

There was lube and a condom in Dean’s duffle. Although he was sure the motel supplied plenty of both, their quality was most likely questionable at best. As Cas covered his torso in kisses and anchored him to the bed, Dean stretched taut to reach the bag and necessities.

“You learned a lot from the pizza man then, huh?” grunted Dean. His fingers grazed the foil of the condom packets. So close.

Cas murmured assent into his skin.

Finally, he was successful in grabbing the condoms and lube. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“He didn’t teach me much,” Cas said. His eyes were locked on Dean. “I need another lesson.”

Holy sweet fuck. Dean surged up to meet his lips not long after the last words left his mouth, pulling his shoulders and brushing down his arms. “And you’ll be a good little student?” he asked between sloppy, loud kisses.

“Yes.”

That one grunted word filled Dean with such _need._ Like a greedy child might want his candy, Dean needed more of Cas, needed him now. Dean rose up then, disrupting Cas from his comfortable position on Dean’s groin. Cas fell back easily enough, and he watched Dean unwaveringly as Dean squirted lube onto his fingers.

“You’re going to get on your hands and knees,” Dean instructed. “And you’re going to relax.”

Cas did exactly as he was asked. If it were possible, Dean’s heart might’ve hammered a hole right out of his chest. He couldn’t tell if it was because of nerves, excitement, or just longing, but it didn’t exactly matter. He positioned himself behind Cas. The lube was cool on his fingers, felt like jelly, smelled like cherries. As Dean wavered over him, nudging Cas’ knees further apart, admiring him, deciding on plan of attack, Cas shifted his hips and tried to get a good eye on Dean over his shoulder.

“What are you waiting for?” he demanded. He pushed his ass back at Dean, craving a feel, a touch.

“Shhh shhh shhhh.” One hand settled Cas’ cheek, the other rested at his hole. He seized a handful of the man’s ass, firm and fevered. Cas turned to glare at him.

“If you don’t- oh. Oh!”

Dean couldn’t help the large grin as he massaged Cas’ hole gently, not letting his fingers beyond the first tight ring, just playing on the outside, prepping. Cas kept moving backwards to urge Dean to hurry, but Dean took his leisure in reveling at Cas’ awesomeness and beauty

“You’re quite impatient, are you?” Dean leered.

“Dean, I’m quite sure turtles have sex quicker than this,” Cas growled.

“Don’t worry; I’ve got a plan.” For good measure, Dean bent forward and pressed his lips to Cas’ shoulder, even pressed his tongue flat to taste his skin. Then, he nudged his finger inside, causing Cas to gasp.

“See? I’ve got you.”

He only had one in Cas, and he used it to get a feel of the man’s burning heat and tightness. If this is what one finger felt like, Dean couldn’t wait to push his cock inside. With this new urgency, Dean struggled to keep things slow, to keep from going too fast and hurting Cas. After several moments longer, he pushed another finger in, and at Cas’ groan, he grinned.

“Jesus, Cas, you’re so tight,” Dean breathed. His fingers scissored and searched and probed inside Cas.

“Do not-” a low keening, and Dean knew he’d found his prostate at last. Cas swiveled around fast, almost dislodging Dean’s fingers. His eyes were wide, mouth gaping open. “Dean, what was that?”

Dean was grinning. “What? You mean this?” Dean pushed more and felt Cas’ prostate on the tips of his fingers, tickled and stroked a little. Cas’ mouth dropped and another shameless groan fell from his lips. His eyelids dropped beneath the pleasure.

“Yes.”

Cas was completely blighted, and they hadn’t even gotten to the best part yet.

“Don’t worry. I’m going to take good care of you.” He nudged a third finger in. Cas was loosening beneath his touch.

Dean ripped the foil of the condom wrapper with his teeth and rolled the rubber over his own desperately hard cock. He was ready to explode just with this, with just loosening Cas up nice and pretty and indecent. He used the last of the lube to anoint his cock, being sure to spread the cherry substance thoroughly. Then, he felt satisfied that both he and Cas were ready.

When Dean pulled out, Cas turned around to settle a ferocious glare on him. “Don’t stop, Dean.”

“Hey, I said I have a plan.” Both of his hands were slippery with lube, so Dean dried off his right as best he could on the bed and touched the dip in Cas’ back reassuringly. “I’ve got you.”

Dean lined up his cock with Cas’ hole. He was touching the outside and was about to push gently inside when Cas turned around again.

“I need to see your face, Dean,” he decided.

“Okay, we can do that.”

Cas flipped onto his back then, and he dragged Dean down for a kiss Dean was sure was going to leave a bruise. Cas bit him, tugged him, sucked him until Dean pulled back and left Cas near whimpering.

“You’re taking away from the main event,” Dean chastised lightly. He lined up again.

Cas watched him. “I’m adding to it.”

Dean pressed a kiss to Cas’ knee. “Spread your legs more.” He complied. “Okay, just relax. This might hurt.”

Despite all the prepping and massaging, it did look like it hurt. Dean went as slow as he could to allow Cas to accommodate him, but the man’s face still gnarled into a grimace. Halfway through, Dean stopped.

“Cas?”

“Keep going, Dean,” he insisted.

Dean kissed him again with apologies, but did what he instructed. He found a new angle kneeling on the bed, and that seemed to help a little. Dean didn’t want to move any more until he was sure Cas was ready, so he remained still as he rubbed circles around Cas’ hipbones.

Eventually, Cas’ grimace eased into an expression of impatience. And then Cas was moving and shifting his legs and hips for a better angle. Dean found himself pushed back onto the bed as Cas reoriented. They were lying together, gasping and eager, and then Cas began to move in earnest.

He kept one hand on the base of Dean’s cock, fondled his balls, tickled the space between them and his ass. He pinned Dean with his eyes, and his mouth worked moaned-out barely-there syllables. He did all this while bearing up and down Dean’s dick, driving his hips into different positions to recapture that excitement on his prostate. Dean tried to help all he could, but Cas would have none of it. One foot reached up to perch on Dean’s knee, and the other held his thigh to the bed, effectively keeping Dean still.

Dean could do one thing, though. With his left hand, he reached over to seize Cas’ pearling cock. He kept in time with Cas’ thrusting, swiping his hands over the tip and smearing it with precum. Dean was fascinated with the slippery liquid, and he quickly brought his hand up to his mouth for a taste. Cas’ eyes widened considerably, and he breathed out, “Dean.”

“I’m here.”

“I think I’m gonna-”

Dean could feel it in himself, the point of no return puckering at the root of his dick, heat pooling and ready to fire. Around him, Cas tightened, and his eyes closed. Just as Dean was about to let go and explode inside the condom, Cas moaned, a wickedly lascivious sound, and that overtaken expression Dean’d seen before when he was fingering him made another appearance. Dean grinned, and he bucked his hips to meet Cas’ ass and to keep hitting his prostate. His grip on Cas’ dick firmed, encouraged.

“Come on, baby. Come for me.”

Cas did only a few thrusts later. He kept his eyes, pupils blown and blue dark, on Dean. The spotlight suddenly made Dean feel flushed as he was about to release his own seed, but when Cas whispered his name, urging him to come, that was it. Dean cried out his climax in Cas’ name, over and over again as the feeling washed over him and slowly ebbed, warm enough to make him shiver. He could feel Cas’ gaze on him, but Dean couldn’t for the life of him lift his eyelids to meet him. All he could do was depress into the bed, spent, still attached to Cas. Neither were very keen on moving, and they didn’t for some time as Cas’ cum dried on his stomach.

When his heart stopped thundering so powerfully in his chest, Dean finally pulled out of Cas. He came slowly to his senses and saw the mess they’d made of the bed. Crushed rose petals perfumed the air and stained the once-pristinely uniform sheets. Dean smiled.

Dean was the first to break the silence. “That was awesome.”

Cas thumbed on the edges of Dean’s lips. “Do you believe me?”

Dean nodded.


End file.
